My Bloody Valentine
by rainjewel
Summary: “I never understood how a princess of peace and a warrior of the stars could ever hope to fall in love and live happily ever after,” Dorothy said. She looked to Relena once again. The girl was white as chalk..."I see he's left you." Dark and Yuri. YAY


**My Bloody Valentine**

By: rainjewel

**Disclaimer**: For some odd reason I do not own Gundam Wing OR the band Good Charlotte. I do, however, own one HUGE box of Pocky and am therefore appeased. Until it runs out

**Timeline**: Post series and Endless Waltz.

**Rated**: PG-13.

**Warnings**: Angst. Violence. People in love. I'm actually proud of my language in this fic. I was a rather good little girl and didn't swear that much, if at all!

**Author's Note**: If you wanted warnings about homosexuality—too bad. I don't see very many warnings for heterosexual couplings and there isn't a difference in my book between the two. This is a fic inspired by Good Charlotte's "My Bloody Valentine." Listen to it IMMEDIATELY following this story and you'll see its influence. This fic is not a songfic however, simply because I suck like a vacuum when it comes to songfics/vidfics. Too longwinded, I'm afraid. I apologize for any OOC-ness. I haven't seen a lot of Dorothy in action, but from what I've read and heard I am utterly in love with her and hence had to do a fic. Long live painful lovelies like her.

**Special Thanks**: I would like to thank ex_angel for being my beta reader and putting up with my annoying habit of leaving words out of sentences. 

**---@ ****GW**** @---**

"Oh my love

Please don't cry

I'll wash my bloody hands

And we'll start a new life.

I don't know much at all

I don't know wrong from right

All I know is that

I love you tonight."

_My Bloody Valentine_; Good Charlotte

~ ~ ~

Quatre found her. Of course. It had to be him of all people. The one man in the world she would never want to see again, and he had to be the one to find her.

Coming here had been a gamble in the first place. Dorothy's smile turned sardonic. A gamble she would take and lose, and she had known it.

"Miss Catalonia." A voice as compelling as the screams of the dying.

"Why, if it isn't Mr. Winner."

She turned to face him. She placed a hand on her cousin's gravestone in an act of parting. Quatre would not let her leave here. She wouldn't let him do that. So this smooth touch upon granite was her goodbye to Treize. _Good cousin_, she thought_, you know my true reason for coming here. We were always the strategists, weren't we? But you had vision before, whereas I didn't. Now I do._

Quatre was looking at her with passion written in his features, as there always was. They were alike, she'd admit. However, he had passion for life and people—she had a passion for dying and the pain of people.

"I'm glad I found you Miss Catalonia," Quatre said, charming. Dorothy sashayed to him, swinging her hips so that her dress would stretch across her body. An unprecedented tactic, she knew—a tactic that wouldn't work. She knew that as well.

"Oh? And why is that, Mr. Winner? Are you here for a rematch?" she asked. Slowly she pressed a hand against his thin shirt and felt the raised scar her blade had left. 

Quatre looked down at her, tan face kind. "Of sorts, Dorothy, of sorts. I need you to come with me."

She frowned as he said her name. "Why would I want to?"

Quatre tilted her chin to look up at him. "Let's end this dance, Dorothy. I do not want to play your games."

Dorothy contrived a look of pure pain upon her face. She broke from his touch and turned away. She clutched her sides.

"_Quatre_, I'mI'm hurt," she said. He shifted behind her, pants rustling in the graveyard grass.

"Heero left," he said, almost whispering. The words cut deeply. Dorothy fought to keep her composure, but she felt her muscles freeze.

"He always leaves," she retorted, but her voice lacked her usual sly subtly.

"Heero left. He's with Duo now." The words were hurting her and she knew he could feel it. Dorothy's arms fell to her sides. Quatre pressed on. "It's been a while. They're very happy."

Dorothy whipped around, staring at him with all the venom she possessed. 

"I will go wherever you wish, Mr. Winner."

He nodded. She knew where he would take her anyway.

~ ~ ~

Her guards weren't too hard to kill. He didn't want to deal with killing personnel, but silence was a must for what he was prepared to do. The security systems, set up by her ex-husband, were astounding in their complexity.

He understood complexity. But no matter if he could break into those familiar codes, he had to get closer. Close enough for them to be alone, for complete silence.

Silence could scream for him.

~ ~ ~

Servants always ushered people to the office of Vice Foreign Minister Relena Dorlian. No matter who it was to see the former Queen of the World, they were always put through a series of scans, pat downs, and then personally accompanied by the burliest men and women the world had to offer. They made damn sure that no one ever harmed their beloved politician.

There were only a few select people who could come through without such imposing entourage. The five gundam pilots belonged to this elite few, as did Sally Po, Lady Une, Lucrezia Noin, and Zechs Merquise. Dorothy, apparently, was also one of the few. She had requested to be allowed to visit Relena unaccompanied and was allowed to do so, despite the perfectly vicious glare Pargan had sent her way.

And so when she opened Relena's door without a warning she wasn't surprised to find that she was received with complete and utter amazement.

"D-Dorothy?" Relena stammered. She was sitting at her desk, blue ballpoint pen poised in the air. Her mouth was in a perfect "O." Her honey-blonde hair was long again.

"Ah, Miss Relena, so good to see you," Dorothy said softly. She smirked and closed the door behind her. Relena didn't regain her voice until she had walked to the desk.

"Why? Where have" Relena trailed off. Her voice had lost its power. 

Dorothy perched on the edge of the heavy desk. She looked over to the window.

"I never understood how a princess of peace and a warrior of the stars could ever hope to fall in love and live happily ever after," Dorothy said. She looked to Relena once again. The girl was white as chalk. She took the other girl's hand and pressed her thumb against the pale circle where her wedding ring had once been. "I see he's left you."

The words were bitter and scathing. Dorothy knew this, but couldn't seem to make them stop. Relena, the Ice Queen, the girl who she had never understood, was close to destruction. And oh how she adored destruction.

"How could you?" Relena asked, staring up at Dorothy with huge eyes. The determination that always had masked everything else was gone. Relena was stripped bare.

"How could I not?" Dorothy replied softly. She held onto Relena's hand but walked around the desk until she was facing the former Queen. The girl swiveled in her chair, facing Dorothy. She dropped to her knees before Relena, pale pink dress billowing as she knelt.

"I am the same as him, Relena," she said. Her mocking tone was her own and she couldn't change it. Luckily, Relena had never seemed to care. "I only know how to destroy things, and you know how much I love war. I am needed and understood only in battle, as is he. You can't understand the beauty of blood and death, and he cannot understand the beauty of peace."

"Neither can you," Relena said softly. Dorothy nodded.

"But I can see past idealizations and false conceptions, Relena, when he cannot. He loved his idea of you and couldn't understand who you truly were. I cannot understand you, but I love you for who you are."

Relena stared at her. As a politician, she knew how words were wielded and always could read between the lines of any comment. Dorothy had still made her message easily understandable. She was still her macabre, manipulative, and cruel self, and she wanted Relena to be aware of it, even if she wouldn't believe it. _I love you_ Dorothy thought, _but I only want you to be with me if you can take me for who I am and can be._

Slowly, without sound, tears began to fall from Relena's eyes. Her facial expression or breathing didn't change, only the tears. Dorothy pulled out what she hoped to be her ace in the hole, but she also knew that this move could be inconceivably wrong. For the first time, all her strategy could be incorrect.

Gently she leaned in and touched her lips to Relena's. It was a firm kiss, full of Dorothy's potent strength, but tender with her caring. Relena seemed shocked at first, but as Dorothy kissed her again, she responded like a parched creature who had just found a waterhole. Her hands flew into Dorothy's hair, pulling the girl closer to her. She arched her back in her chair, pressing her body against Dorothy's, breathing her name.

Relena had always been thought of as strong and she was. However, her strength was given to her by other individuals. Heero was strong, and he allowed her to thrive. She was the embodiment of his ideal, and he needed her just as much as she needed him. However, the ideal had been realizedand Relena was not her peace. When Heero had left for what he truly needed, Relena's strength was gone. Dorothy, strong and manipulative, impassioned by her ideas and ambition, was exactly what Relena needed.

Dorothy gently grabbed Relena from her chair and pulled her to the ground with her. As both their hands began to wander and clothes began to surprisingly disappear, Relena paused.

"I don't know you, Dorothy," she whispered. "But you seem to know me."

That hurt. Dorothy smirked. "Does it matter right now?"

Relena frowned. Dorothy's hand worked its way up the other girl's thighs, pushing her down beneath her. Relena finally shook her head, gasping as Dorothy's fingers moved even higher.

~ ~ ~

She was in complete black from head to toe. She grimaced. It wasn't too uncomfortable, she supposed, it was just that she was unaccustomed to it. But one doesn't go through a war without learning some tricks of the trade, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to use them.

He wasn't going to hurt her anymore.

Quickly she keyed in the access codes into the front gate, which gave her free power to manipulate what she needed at will. The codes had been granted to her that very morning, and all ready she was feeling a keen sense of betrayal welling within her.

She slipped without notice inside the house through an open back window. Sure, the house had an unbelievable amount of booby traps, but her codes were enough to bypass them without raising too much hell.

Wellit did depend on how much hell the occupant was willing to give—willing to hurt her.

~ ~ ~

Dorothy was a skilled strategist, as equal to the renowned Quatre Raberba Winner and had bested many a time her late cousin, one Treize Khushrenada. But there was a difference between her and the two men. Her strategies never considered an end, only victory. Dorothy was interested in one thing—war. She won battles by any means and always made war a continuing intricate dance. She didn't care about long-term results and only emerged victorious when she could be certain a revolution was in sight.

But when handed a broken, sobbing Relena Dorlian, she was at a loss. This wasn't pained battle—it was pain all right, but pain without the glory of war. A pain of love lost, of rejection, was not something Dorothy could be sympathetic too, based on the fact that she didn't know or understand sympathy. Quatre had been the first person to ever show her mercy, and she had promptly run him through with a foil.

It was how she solved problems. Battle was all she knew.

"I'm sorry, Dorothy," Relena whispered. They lay together, tangled in wet sheets. Blonde dripped into blonde, covering them both where the linens could not. Relena's face was pressed to the skin beneath Dorothy's breasts, her sobs dancing up and down the older girl's ribs. It shook Dorothy.

"It's all right, Miss Relena," she said quietly.

"Butoh it's just that I still _needed_ him!" Relena said, her breath intense on Dorothy's taut stomach. A new bout of tears flowed. "He didn't need me, but I still needed him!" 

Dorothy marveled at this strong girl, this granite princess—reduced to nothing over something so small. Emotion is powerful, this she knew, but the beauty of this agony was both monstrous and lovely. The cruel beauty of her own pain was fascinating.

"Do you still?" Dorothy mused, "Is it that you need what he stood for, or do you still love him?"

She flashed back to another time, when both girls were polishing the art of war _off_ the battlefield—a war of philosophy, of ideals—not hearts. Back in the time where it was easy, where there wasn't this intense pain from the anguish of another.

"I don't know, DorothyI just don't know," Relena whispered after a moment of silence.

Dorothy knew. And she was all ready one step ahead.

"Miss Relena, you should go see him," she whispered, closing her eyes.

"What?"

"If you see him, speak to him and tell him everything you need for him to hear, it will help. You will know what you feel," Dorothy continued. "You will understand."

"I can't! I meanit would be too hard, Dorothy," Relena whispered. "D-Duo would be.insufferable."

"Oh Duo won't be there," Dorothy said. A vision of aquamarine eyes and blonde hair swam before her. So strange that these circumstances had brought them together again—partners in the game of Cupid. 

Relena recognized the tone of Dorothy's voice. She nodded, then kissed the other girl's cool stomach. She gently crawled up the bed, wrapping her arms around Dorothy as she went.

"I need you," she said, voice quiet, yet strong.

Dorothy knew. She knew also why Relena didn't say she loved her. 

~ ~ ~

He had loved her. That was reason enough for her to die; for her to live.

The old man fell with grace. He bled out on the mahogany floorboards, staining them a hue all together different. He was something all together different.

And now they were alone with the silence.

He smiled. He had been alone too. Always alone when Death came knockin'.

~ ~ ~

Relena stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked like she'd tried to hard. She always had tried too hard. She'd put on lipstick for this event, softened the severity of her eyes with subtle makeup. She'd swept some of her back in a small black clip, but left the rest down, flowing as far as it could reach. Her black dress, conservative as most of her wardrobe, suddenly looked as if it was made for an evening out on the town.

Appointments had been cancelled, meetings pushed back.

A soft kiss was placed to the side of her neck. "Pargan's waiting, Miss Relena."

_Always Miss Relena. Why Dorothy? What would happen if you dropped this inane formality? Would I get too close? Does that scare you?_

"Thank you Dorothy," she said, turning away from the mirror and to her lover. Dorothy looked beautiful and formidable as always. Her hair was braided back and wet from the shower, her flimsy nightie clinging to her curves and still damp skin, an accidental seductiveness radiating from her body. But Dorothy never did anything accidentally, Relena said, mentally frowning.

Dorothy stepped forward and handed Relena her purse, hip brushing hers. The former queen nearly dashed all her plans to visit Hee-_him_, but the unusual weight in her bag distracted her. Reaching into it, she brought out a small handgun. Her eyes widened.

"Your entourage isn't accompanying you, Miss Relena. You should take it," Dorothy said. Relena could see the glee in the other girl's eyes—the pacifist carrying a weapon. But there was also concern there. There had to be.

"I can't take this, Dorothy, and you know it," she said. 

Dorothy grabbed the wrist that held the gun, leaned in, and kissed Relena fiercely, a passion bursting forward from her lips. Kisses from Dorothy were dizzying and intense. Relena loved it.

"It's your decision, Miss Relena," she said. Dorothy then turned and quickly walked out of the room.

Relena suddenly felt as if she missed something. Breathing heavily, she looked to the gun. With deliberate action, she placed the gun back in the bag. Quickly she checked to make sure she had the codes to get into His house, then left the room.

She all but marched to the limousine, where Pargan stood, waiting. Looking up, she noticed it was raining. It was so fitting that Relena almost shuddered.

"This ends today," she murmured.

~ ~ ~

Most of the lights were on inside the house. A small cat came and rubbed against her ankles. She avoided it and ducked down a hallway. The house was a split-level, but she knew he could hear more than he should.

It was still raining outside, but that couldn't be helped. She inched towards the stairs. He was in the kitchen, she realized, listening to the sound of dishes being stacked. How completely mundane and out of place. Former Gundam pilots don't do dishes.

The cat came and mewed at her feet, a beacon to her very position. Quickly she took the small animal in her hand, then flung it up the steps as far as she could.

The cat landed on its small feet and shot up the rest of the stairs, turning the corner and dashing away.

The sound of the dishes stopped.

~ ~ ~

Dorothy was in the shower when she heard.

The door to the bathroom opened and shut and she heard small feet on the rug.

"Have you read the paper this morning, Dorothy?" Relena's voice broke over the running water. "Seen the news on TV?"

"No I haven't, Miss Relena," she said. Dorothy never did anything without showering first.

The words came softly, like screams sometimes do. "Heero's dead."

Dorothy dropped the bar of soap that was in her hand. However, she managed to catch it before it hit the bottom of the tub.

Whatever she had to say died on her lips as Relena continued talking.

"An intruder broke into his home last night and killed him," she said. Her voice was soft as velvet, the way it usually became when chatting up particularly devious politicians. "He was shot twice. Once in the chest, once in the head."

Dorothy turned off the shower, checked for bruises, and pulled open the curtain. Relena was sitting on the toilet, paper lying in her lap listlessly. Her blue eyes were dazed yet clear at the same time.

"Miss Relena, are you all right? Dorothy asked. Her voice was less-than-concerned and her words were a trigger.

"Yes, Dorothy," Relena said, voice turning airy and detached. Dorothy frowned, but Relena continued. "I went there yesterday, you know. He was fine."

Dorothy quietly stepped from the tub, reaching for a nearby towel and robe. As she dried her body and covered herself she studied Relena, who was staring at the paper. _She's in shock_, Dorothy thought. She herself could barely process the information, but her mind was all ready formulating the next step she should take. It was her talent, this strategizing, but it was also her downfall.

She knelt in front of Relena, taking the girls slender hands in ones just as dainty.

"You need to come with me, Miss Relena," she said, angling her head to be right in Relena's line of sight.

The blank stare suddenly snapped into intense focus.

"I told him I didn't need him anymore, that we could both be happy," Relena said. Dorothy's eyes widened at the fierceness of her tone. "I said that the pain was going to end."

Dorothy swallowed her words. _It never stops._

The animal savagery had burned through Relena's features as swift as lightening—quickly the diplomat's face dissolved as tears began sliding down her face. It was a downpour that startled Dorothy, but this was a reaction she could have predicted. Relena all but fell to the ground, sobs racking her frame. Dorothy placed her hands on the girl's quaking shoulders.

"Oh Heero" Relena whispered, "You're truly dead to me now."

"The Preventers will find out who did this," Dorothy said. "I'll even lead the investigation."

She said that because it was how Dorothy solved problems. It was a new battle, a new _game_—another step to an old solution.

Relena looked up at her suddenly. "I need you Dorothy."

The older girl smiled.

"I'll always be here, Miss Relena," she replied, and swallowed her scream of frustration.

~ ~ ~

She was alone, which he hadn't counted on. Still, he wasn't concerned. After all, he had absolutely nothing to lose. She was lying on her large bed, golden hair dripping on the blankets. Innocent, revered, and plagued.

The only light in the room came from a quick glint of moonlight across a naked blade. He quickly leapt to the edge of the bed, moving with the agility of an alley cat. The moonlight struck again—this time revealing chaotic dark eyes. It held the wild gaze as he hesitated. For a second he remembered how he had loved her. For a moment he remembered his sanity. 

And then the pain crashed around him, and he remembered how this was now his life.

In an instant he plunged the sharp knife into her chest.

Blue eyes shot open, Death reflecting in them like an old friend. The body jerked but then lay still. Her mouth opened but instead of a scream, blood poured forth, flowing onto her jaw and chin. Silence was screaming.

"Always you," he whispered. "It was always because of you!"

Her eyes were glassy, skin pale. Kissing her wrist, he felt the instant she died.

"Omae o korosu, ojou-san."

~ ~ ~

Heero contemplated his dishwater—there were too many damn bubbles again. He never could figure the correct ratio of dish soap to water. Between various acts of terrorism during his days as a Gundam pilot and various acts of stupidity as Relena's husband, he'd never needed to know it.

She'd come by that morning. It had hurt to see her, pale and all in black. She always looked souncomfortable in black. Heero now understood why Quatre had insisted on taking Duo out for the day. He had known that she would come and he had known how Duo would react.

It hadn't been easy on either of them. It was hard to see Relena sifting her way through the realization that theirs had been a love of ideals and base needs. Sure they had—and still did—love each otherbut they were not "in love" with one another.

Heero frowned at the memory, but then reminded himself that Relena had Dorothy. Relena _loved_ Dorothy, in fact. _And_ he thought to himself,_ I have Duo. In the end we _can_ be happy._

Speaking of which, why wasn't that baka home?  


Heero paused for a moment. Duo's (_"ours_" he could hear in his head) cat Crackers was meowing downstairs. Heero smiled, if only on the inside. Duo had a habit of always coming in the house from unlocked doors and windows, simply so that he didn't have to deal with all the security measures Heero had placed on the premises. Never mind that such behavior completely undermined said security measures. Still, Crackers always seemed to know where Duo was going to appear from and was quite an enthusiastic greeter.

This time, however, there wasn't the usual cheerful laugh and shout of "Curses! Foiled again!"

Heero knew cats meowed for various reasons, yet he couldn't help but bring his senses to full alert. He kept doing the dishes as if everything was normal (which he conceded it probably _was_). There were only a few people who could break into his security system and all of them were his fellow comrades. In fact, Heero was only a second from settling down when he heard a loud _THUMP_ and Crackers came rocketing into the kitchen with one very poofy tail.

His gun was cool in his hand as he whipped around. He heard footsteps and squeezed off a shot before he even knew where to look.

There was a small groan of pain. Heero recognized the voice and paused, looking at the figure all in black. The hooded mask came off, and long blonde hair cascaded down. 

"Good evening, Heero," she said. But without any further ado she raised a gun and fired, but not before he did. Aiming to wound but not kill, he struck her in the right shoulder.

Her shot imbedded itself right in his chest cavity. Heero frowned as air left him and he fell to his knees. The gun slipped out of his hands as his fingers lost feeling.

She advanced slowly, face a mask of ice.

"I have long been misunderstood," she whispered. "You underestimated me."

Duo flashed in his brain—his love, his braid, his pained beauty. All those moments during the war when he had been the only thing Heero could count on, could reach out to. For the first time in his life, he realized that he _didn't want to die_. He lunged for his gun but only managed to slump to his side. Blood pooled in his mouth.

"The bullets, as you've noticed, were custom made—they contain a paralyzing agent," she said.

"She doesn't love you," he managed to say.

Her blue eyes flared. "She's mine!"

Heero looked up the gun barrel pointed at his skull. Summoning his legendary strength he rose and grabbed her by her neck, but his fingers were to numb to snap it.

A shot rang out.

~ ~ ~

She was in the office. He could tell by the light beneath the door. Not caring if she retaliated or not, he opened the door and casually leaned against the frame.

She was standing with her back to him, looking out into the night sky. She was wearing a long nightgown with only ribbons for straps. 

"Good evening," she said. Turning to face him, he caught the sight of a hand-shaped bruise that stained her pale neck. Another blemish was on her right shoulder. He closed his eyes, piecing the events together in his mind.

"I was wearing Kevlar," she said. His eyes blazed open at the comment. "There's blood in your hair."

"And blood on your hands," he remarked. She smiled.

"An ironic remark coming from an ex-Gundam pilot," she said softly.

"You knew I'd come, didn't you?" he said, eyes glittering. He was reading her, analyzing her like a mission.

"I knew you'd come to kill me," she said. Tossing her long tresses she walked to the doorframe and held out her hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Duo Maxwell."

"Wish I could say the same," he muttered. Weaving a crooked grin through his lips he straightened and took her hand. He squeezed it hard and flicked her long fingers back, breaking them.

She didn't flinch or cry out. In fact she simply kept looking to him as if waiting for something. Duo realized she'd been expecting a reaction like that.

"You're wrong if you think I'm going to kill you, Dorothy," he said darkly.

"What, the God of Death isn't going to kill me?" she said. Her voice was mocking, but her face registered shock.

"No. But I did bring you a parting gift, since I doubt we'll be seeing much of each other after this," he said. Ducking into the shadows of the corridor, Duo picked up his present.

"I wouldn't have allowed you to kill me," Dorothy said to him as he was in the hallway.

"I doubt that would have been a factor," he said. He stepped back into the light and felt satisfaction from Dorothy's horrified features. "Your present, Dorothy."

"R-Relena," she stuttered. Duo nodded and dumped the body into Dorothy's arms. The girl dropped to her knees, face white. She ran a finger along the dead girl's cheek.

"You see Dorothy," Duo said, voice grim. "There are some things worse than death. And I would much rather know you're suffering right along with me than to let you off so easily with a bullet."

Dorothy was looking at Relena's blue face, her own features stoic. Duo reached down and tilted her chin up to look him in the eyes.

"She didn't love him. Even I knew that," he whispered. He smiled cruelly at her dry eyes. "So you _are_ the woman who cannot cry. Then you know of this silent pain. Goodbye, Dorothy."

He turned away, but Dorothy's voice, as sly as it always had been, stopped him.

"If you don't kill me I'll take my own life, but not before I hurt everyone you know and get rid of you," she said. "It's a large project, but I think I'll manage."

"She'll still be dead, Dorothy," he said.

"So will Heero."

Duo clenched his fists and stepped out of the room in an effort to keep from killing her. He'd worked too hard to keep this cool. She had planned on him running in here full of blind rage, which wasn't a bad plan—he _was_ an emotional fireball...but he burned quick. When the violent waves of anger lifted, all that was left was cool, calculating vengeance.

"Do what you like Dorothy. This isn't a _game_, this isn't _war_. Everything's all ready been lost, don't you see?" he said, halfway turning. She was standing now, but stricken by his words. Dorothy approached life as if it were game. If it wasn't, she couldn't comprehend a solution.

"So why are you still alive, Duo?" she asked. Duo looked to her neck. Gently he placed his hand over the bruises his lover had left. He could almost feel those callused fingers on his own skin.

"For the simple reason that Heero would want me to live," he replied. "And I beg of you to remember this—if you take your life then Relena's death will have been in vain. I wouldn't like that and I don't think you could stomach it."

Dorothy snarled at him. She was outdone.

"Goodbye, Dorothy. I take back what I said earlier—it _was_ a pleasure to meet you," Duo said warmly. Then with the stealth that was his trademark, he blended into what shadows were left of the early morning light and was gone.

Dorothy stood for nearly a half-hour, pale sun sliding across her face. Then she walked to her desk and pulled out the gun she had used to kill Heero with. Quickly, clenching her teeth, she snapped each finger Duo had broken back into alignment. She then emptied the chamber of the remaining bullets. Wrapping her broken hand around the gun she pulled the trigger, listening to its audible click and focusing on the pain in her fingers.

She smiled, and pulled it again. And again.

**---@ ****GW**** @---**

**A/N**: I was going to include the full lyrics to "My Bloody Valentine," but Good Charlotte has asked that none of their lyrics be published online (I'm being kind of naughty with the snippet in the beginning). I strongly urge you to download—or better yet, buy the CD—so you can listen to this fantastic tune. There are a quite a few references to it throughout the fic. However, if anyone is truly desperate, email me and I will provide you with lyrics for the song. Please R&R as always and drink you milk. Calcium is calc-yum!


End file.
